Thidwick the Big-Hearted Moose
Thidwick, the Big-Hearted Moose.
Hachnasat Orchim, attending to one’s guests
Up at Lake Winna-Bango…the far northern shore…
Lives a huge herd of moose, about sixty or more.
In this herd of moose we find one particular fellow, Thidwick, The Big-Hearted Moose. Once again Dr. Seuss introduces us to an unforgettable character who helps us learn a couple of very important lessons. Thidwick is a kind, sweet, giving moose who gives and gives and gives until it is almost too late. However, in the beginning of the story
…it happened that, Thidwick, the last moose in line
Saw a Bingle Bug sitting.
The bug called out, “Hey!
It’s such a long road
And it’s such a hot day,
Would you mind if I rode
On your horns for the way?”
Again, like so many Dr. Seuss characters, Thidwick knows his mitzvoth. He knows that the mitzvah of hachnasat orchim, attending to guests, is one of the greatest in the entire Torah. Thidwick, taught well by his rabbi, welcomes the Bingle Bug into his ample antlers. Certainly, Thidwick knew that hachnasat orchim was a particularly important mitzvah throughout the centuries. The rabbis maintained that it involved a higher level of holiness than seeing the Divine Presence. A midrash (rabbinic story) describes Abraham’s and Job’s tents as being open on all four sides so any stranger could enter directly. It was considered a wicked act to eat without inviting the poor to join, and, we are told, people in Jerusalem would set up a flag to notify the needy that a meal was in progress. It became the custom throughout Jewish history to invite a stranger home for Shabbat, and frequently people vied with others in their community for the right to perform the mitzvah. The Talmud goes so far as to say, “Hospitality for the wayfarers is greater than welcoming the Shechina (Divine Presence).” (Talmud: Shabbat, 127a)
“Of course not!” smiled Thidwick, the Big-Hearted Moose.
“I’m happy my antlers can be of some use.
There’s room there to spare, and I’m happy to share!
Be my guest and I hope you’re comfortable there!”
With that, the Bingle Bug settles in for the ride and Thidwick goes back to eating the moose moss he was enjoying before welcoming his tiny guest. Perhaps he was reflecting on the rhyming words of the 19th Century German-Jewish scholar, Daniel Sanders, “A dish tastes best, when shared with a guest.”
In short order Thidwick finds his antlers further populated by a spider and a Zinn-a-zu bird. The bird not only moves into the antlers but he “…began yanking hairs out of poor Thidwick’s head. And he plucked out exactly two hundred and four! “Don’t worry,” he laughed. “You can always grow more!” Thidwick, although made uncomfortable by this intrusion, reflects on his Hebrew school days, and says, “For a host, above all, must be nice to his guests.”
However, this policy quickly turns to a burden when Thidwick is joined by a woodpecker who starts drilling. Thidwick’s friends, thinking of his health and safety, advise him to, “GET RID OF THOSE PESTS!” Thidwick responds, “I would but I can’t. They’re guests!”
The guests feel no compunction about what they are up to. Perhaps they were not listening when the other moose were yelling, or maybe they heard them loud and clear and thought they had found a truly giving soul in the host moose they had invaded. Whatever the case they show their lack of compassion for poor Thidwick by going so far as to invite in a whole squirrel family, a bobcat and a turtle.
At this point the rest of the herd gets ready to head across Lake Winna-Bango to find fresh moose moss to munch and Thidwick knows he needs to head across the lake or else he will starve. He steps into the water and the “guests” on his head begin protesting that Thidwick can’t go across the lake as his antlers are now their home and they do not want their home moving across the lake. Thidwick pleads with them and the guests decide to put the matter to a vote.
“AYE!” Thidwick,
but when he was done…
“Nay!” they all yelled.
He lost ‘leven to one.
Then to make matters worse the guests invite in even more squatters. Thidwick ends up with a fox, some mice (and fleas), a bear, and finally a swarm of three hundred and sixty-two bees!
Then something unbelievable happens: Bullets come zinging past Thidwick’s head. With 500 pounds on his antlers, Thidwick runs. Surely he knew that he could make his escape more efficiently with out the “guests” but he does not ask them to leave or dump them on the spot. Rather, he tries to escape. Unfortunately, due to the burden, the hunters eventually have Thidwick cornered with five guns pointed directly at him.
Dr. Seuss builds the dramatic tension to an almost Spielberg-ian level and readers are captivated as Thidwick’ s very existence is threatened because of his dedication to his “guests.” Have no fear though, things work out. Well, at least they work out for Thidwick. Surely in this most trying of moments he reflects on the words of Rabbi Akiba from the Talmud, Baba Metzia, 62a, “’That your brother may live with you [Leviticus 25:36],’ - your own life comes first.” Or maybe he was pondering a quote from Heinrich Heine, “That which cannot maintain itself by its own power, has no right to exist.”
Or maybe not…
Maybe he was just trying to save himself and the passage of time and cycles of nature came through for him at a crucial moment.
Regardless of the outcome (and I encourage you to read the ending of the story), Thidwick is a shining example of the mitzvah of hachnasat orchim. Jewish tradition expects a person to do everything they can for their guests, and, like Thidwick, one is not to shirk from duty no matter the circumstance. The heavenly reward one might receive for the performance of this mitzvah might not be as dramatic as that which Thidwick got but the heavenly records will make note of our efforts and will eventually reward us.